Starcraft: Evolutions
by Kylun
Summary: The Queen of Blades ascension in the Koprulu sector has everyone reeling. Events from far away Earth are about to shatter the foundations of her new dominance and change everthing... Prologue has been shortened and the bulk of it moved over to Chapter 1.
1. Prologue

_Disclaimer: Starcraft is the property of Blizzard Entertainment. In no way do I own or claim to own any proprietary rights to Starcraft_

**STARCRAFT: EVOLUTIONS**

**PROLOGUE**

_1812 Zulu, Solarian Standard Time (SST_)

_Geneva, Switzerland, Earth_

_Sol System_

A lamenting wind swirled plumes of dust and pillars of oil thick smoke as it blew through the city's blackened burghs. The heat distorted air raged with multiple fires throughout the gutted ruins of the shattered skyscrapers overwhelmingly suffused with the scent of burning metal and rubber The bloated sun began to descend on the late autumn day, the moon gaining prominence in the sky and casting its silver light on the hills of asphalt slabs and muddy craters. Purple and red clouds were barely visible through the haze of ash and smoke nearly hiding a beautiful sunset. As natural darkness began to cast its veil across the deepening night people began to stir in the streets as they emerged from basements and shelters, their faces covered with grime and sweat as they struggled beyond piles of blood and ash coated corpses and rubble. As their numbers swelled, they began to cast their attention to the once tallest building in the city, the ruin of its many spires clawing skyward like the jagged teeth of a dragon. Fitful coughing was the only sound that contended with the moaning wind as they began to shuffle toward the building, their red rimmed eyes locked on the building with the tattered flag of the United Earth Directorate hanging limply despite the low wind's attempt to give it life. At first it seemed to shudder, the flag shifting on its pole as it began to slowly drop down, the silhouettes of several people milling about its base barely visible through the swirling smoke. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, the flag disappeared from view, an afterimage of it casting itself in everyone's mind's eye as if trying to return to life. In its place, another flag was being hoisted, a new and bright flag of red, white, blue and gold. There were alternating red and white stripes with a blue rectangle on its upper left side with a white and gold symbol centered on the blue. Though it was difficult to make out through the haze, it appeared to be a stylized representation of the solar system in white surrounded by a golden laurel wreath and a circle of stars. As the flag rose into prominence above the building, a low rumbling seemed to come from everywhere at once, reverberating down the streets and around each building. It rose in a crescendo until the definite sounds of jubilant cheering could be heard from the war torn survivors. A young man and woman, gripping each others hands so tightly their knuckles had turned white, turned to each other, their tears coursing clean lines down their grease stained faces as they smiled with unabashed joy, their white teeth contrasting sharply with their ash covered clothes and faces.

"We've done it," The woman exclaimed breathlessly, "we've won."

The man's smile deepened as he replied, "We're free."


	2. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Blizzard Entertainment or their property, either real or intellectual. _

**STARCRAFT: EVOLUTIONS**

**CHAPTER ONE**

**The Fall of the UED**

**12 hours prior to the events of the prologue**

_0609 Zulu, Solarian Standard Time (SST)_

_Solarian Sector, Earth orbit_

The horrific ruin of the _Behemoth_ class battlecruiser tumbled past, plasma fires licking across its massive hull as its spun end over end, the hammer head section of the bridge spewing air and personnel from its gaping wounds. The dual winged engine section was being slowly consumed by the bluish flames racing up from the exhaust ports, secondary explosions lighting up the night in a macabre display of destruction. From beneath it roared a squadron of the one man _Wraith_ class fighters, their "T" shaped design glistening with laser cannons located at the tip of each wingtip and a pair of missile pods nestled beneath the canopy. The pilots leaned back in their cockpits at the apex of the "T", all twelve arcing through space like a flight of angry falcons. A rectangle of alternating red and white stripes and a blue field in the upper right corner with a golden starfield surrounded by golden laurels decorated the lower wing of each Wraith. Each of the fighters unleashed a pair of Gemini air-to-air missiles before pulling up and away, their engines flaring with power in order to propel the fighters away from their target. The missiles screamed as they slammed into another already wounded battlecruiser, explosions rippling across its armor plating and obliterating the shield of the UED emblazoned on its hull. Its numerous laser turrets responded with a fury of their own, a rapid staccato-pattern of laser bursts streaming out toward the offending fighters. Two of the rebel fighters exploded under the onslaught, sending fiery fragments into the other ships before they are able to pull away.

Lieutenant Commander Kim Yong, one of the youngest squadron commanders ever commissioned and Squadron Commander for Wraith Squadron Falcon Two, cursed softly beneath his breath through gritted teeth as explosions consume two of his squadron-mates. His eyes narrowed, intently studying the tactical readout on his Heads up Display (HUD) then widening in sudden surprise. From seemingly nowhere, a virtual cloud of tactical contacts are made by the Wraith's on board radar, coming up from beneath his formation and approaching so fast, they could only be…

"Falcon 2! Evasive maneu….." His order is cut off as the area fills with a storm of laser fire so sudden and intense that it blinds the pilots and confuses their radar. Three more wraiths explode and several take damage as the squadron splits up and tries to evade the sudden attack. From below them another wraith squadron, this one decorated with the UED shield suddenly deactivate their stealth system, its energy expended from the surprise attack. They shift their power to the engines as they angle into the surprised rebels, driving them away from the distressed UED battlecruiser.

"Falcon 2, anyone that's left, form up on my twelve…maximum acceleration, head for the frigate line!" Lt Cmdr. Young screamed into his headset, desperation creeping into his voice and sweat popping out all over his forehead.

"TACcom, TACcom! This is Falcon 2 with bandits on our six. Request a shift to the frigate line along our escape vector to draw them off!"

"Falcon 2, TACcom here, tactical is aware of your situation, frigate line has already shifted and is standing by, bring em on in."

"Roger, command. Here we come!"

The remaining seven wraiths of Falcon 2 arc back into a loose diamond formation even while trying to evade the enemy squadron's missile and laser fire, the ion trails from their engines tracing bright blue curves through space. The area all around them is lit with explosions as the pursuing squadron fires everything they have to bring them down, not even bothering with a weapons lock. So intent are UED forces on the fleeing wraiths, they fail to note a squadron of _Valkyrie_ class frigates taking position along the rebel's escape vector. The boxy frigates turn languidly to bring their massive rocket launchers to bear at the pursuing Wraiths. Halo rockets, launched in massive salvos of twenty from each of the frigates begin their rain of destruction on the UED fighters, scattering and annihilating the offending forces. The once prey become the predator, as the rebels come about in a swift arc and engage the last of their tormentors.

Lt. Cmdr. Yong watched with intensity born of focused rage as the targeting computer calculated a firing solution, the red crosshairs on his HUD tracking around to follow the madly evading UED fighter. With his heart slamming in his chest, he releases his breath in a long slow exhale as the crosshairs line up with the fighter. His fingers clench on the missile launch control with a jerk, the missiles deploying from his fighter with a soft, "thump". The two Gemini's shoot forward from his wraith and track unerringly into the exhausts of his prey, the brief flash momentarily filling his canopy with a brilliant orange light before fading to reveal the bright dust motes from his victim.

* * *

_USS Achilles, Rebel battlecruiser_

The corrugated neo-steel deck beneath his feet gently rumbled with power as the captain stood calmly on the command island, its crescent deck rising above the main bridge to afford him an excellent view of all the various stations. His dark blue uniform was crisp and pressed, every button and accoutrement glistening gold with polish. His light grey eyes slowly tracked about the bridge, their clear depths taking in information and marking each movement of his crew. His face was composed of flat planes and sharp angles, giving a hard edge to a warrior born and bred in the deadly violence of space. His close cut graying hair was barely visible beneath his command cap, the lightning strokes of silver on the bill marking his mood as clearly as the scowl painted on his face. His eyes bore a fierce light, as he suddenly swept into motion and snapped his attention to the main viewscreen.

Explosions rippled across space as the _USS Achilles_, an honored veteran of many battles, bore down on the UED line, her hull armor shunting away the debris of the fallen. Her laser turrets danced a serenade of death amongst the hapless UED forces, whose support had dwindled and left an opening for the old battlecruiser to exploit. Captain Aidan Smith focused his considerable regard on the bridge crew, his eyes narrowing as the navigation officer squirmed beneath his imperious gaze.

"We're nearly through sir," the female ensign meekly replied to his raised eyebrow, "though we lack fighter support, the UED battlecruisers _Battlecry_ and _Immaculate_ have sustained considerable damage and have fallen back, taking their fighters with them. The way is open."

"Excellent work, Ensign Kelly. Helm, take us in for a tactical orbit of Earth, order all marine battalions to ready for surface deployment." The captain swung about and headed for his seat, the high backed chair dominating a command position in the center of the command island. He let his body fall into the seat, some of his tension melting through him into the chair as it molded to fit his body shape. He watched the unfolding scene intently on the viewscreen, the blue chevrons representing rebel forces slowly driving through the red line of the UED defensive perimeter.

"Have any other vessels broken through?" the captain asked, his gaze falling over the suddenly gaped mouth operations officer, a young man with reddish gold hair and pale skin.

"Erm, ah…no…I mean, yes sir, the _USS Republic_ has established, ah…Earth orbit and is about to deploy ground forces. Um, sir? They appear to be taking fire from a squadron of Wraiths; I think they could use some assistance?"

Captain Smith sighed inwardly as he tried to adopt his most patient, father-like face, which twisted his face into a half grin, half scowl, "Lieutenant, relax and remember your training. Concentrate on your job and let me do mine."

"Um…ah, yes sir." The Lieutenant replied through fast breaths, his face going paler.

"Lieutenant?"

"Sir?"

"Relax."

"Yes sir."

* * *

_USS Republic, rebel battlecruiser in Earth Orbit_

The _Republic_ was hurt, blasted and melted chunks of armor peeling away from her hull from the numerous strafing runs from the UED fighters. Nonetheless, her crew battled the damage and the fighters while docking ports opened in her bridge section, the scurrying of dropship crews and marines bustling about visible from space. She listed slightly to port, a large plume of exhaust gasses jetting from a massive rent in her starboard side. The scene on the bridge was no less chaotic, as Captain April Powers struggled with her dying ship to accomplish her mission. Her hands gripped the railing of the command island as the ship rocked with explosions, electrical sparks and flashes illuminating the bloody gash on her forehead. Her command cap was long lost in the pummeling her ship took while breaking through, her graying hair standing out wildly from her head.

"Shift to Z +10 degrees, come about and put our stern Earth. Laser batteries, standby for a port side barrage at point blank range!" She ran a hand through her hair while maintaining a grip on the rail, smearing the blood across her grey-blonde locks and in her fingers. Despite the furious chaos unfolding, her mature beauty was still evident, the confidence of having held a command for years lending to her stance an air of authority and confidence. Her tactical officer, an older man whose dark skin shone with the sheen of perspiration nodded to her, relaying the commands to the turret crews. Suddenly, the entire bridge shifted upward, slamming everyone inside toward the ceiling as the floor beneath them erupted with flame and shrapnel. The few lights remaining winked out as people and debris rained down from the ceiling, some falling into the massive crater that was once the operations center. Captain Powers, picked herself up from the twisted wreckage, a pitiful moan unconsciously escaping her lips as she grimaced in pain. Blood and ashes now coated her, her legs twisted beneath her barely recognizable. She twisted around with her arms and tried to pull herself into a position to see the main viewscreen with agonizing slowness, its image flickering in and out amidst static. She strained her eyes to make out the hazy image, her mind reeling and she fought for enough focus to realize what had happened. The image in the viewscreen began to take on an orange tint, to her horror the realization suddenly came that the image of Earth was rapidly expanding and that a huge chunk of the engine section of her once proud battlecruiser was somehow preceding her.

"Oh my god, sir! The _Republic_, she's…." the helmsmen choked on her words as her eyes widening with horrified shock at what she was witnessing. Massive bolts of laser energy had lanced up from Earth itself, impaling the stricken _Republic_ and rending her in two. The majority of the bridge section was engulfed by the flames erupting from the engine section that sped beneath it into the atmosphere. Abruptly, another salvo seared her vision, her head turning just before the engine section exploded in a bright white light, a wave of blue plasma racing out from it in an expanding ring. The wave of energy crashed against the falling bridge section, ramming it with fury and taking with it a large percentage of the neo-steel hull in a rain of burning metal, haloing the wreckage.

"April…" Captain Smith whispered, a sharp twinge of pain suddenly cracking his stony demeanor and sending him back to another place and time…

* * *

"Come on Aidan!" a younger April Powers called, "I know the perfect spot!"

Aidan couldn't help but smile in return, his hand leading his feet as he raced after her, the cool dew decked grass leaving silvery motes along the hems of his service dress uniform. The moon was gibbous, the stars slightly dimmed by its brightness, and the sounds of the raucous party being left behind as the two young people rushed up a light hill. April spun about, a light sheen of perspiration lighting her brow as she unashamedly smiled up at her friend. Aidan slowed as he caught up to her, his hand falling to his side just short of touching her, she let her eyes fall for a moment on his hands, now clasped about his champagne glass before looking back at Aidan and renewing her smile. They had fought hard for four years to finally arrive at this point; graduation day had been like a dream come true to both of them. As two young ensigns in the United Earth Directorate, they felt their dreams come to life in the bright evening sky. Aidan nervously licked his lips, his heart thudding in his chest as his gaze fell to his best friend and not for the first time noticing how beautiful she was.

There was an awkward silence between them as they watched the arcs of light ascend into the brightening sky, exploding in fantastic images of pyrotechnics. April eyed Aidan sideways, finally rolling her eyes with a loud sigh and grabbed a hold of his hand before he could object. He stiffened at first, his heart seeming to stop in his chest as he felt the warmth of her hand meld into his. His body felt as though it was deflating as he slowly let out a breath and squeezed her hand in return. He smiled slightly as he could feel her smiling beside him, and wondered to himself if there would ever be room in their lives for something more than their duty.

He came back to the present with a jolt, his eyes regaining focus on the viewscreen which showed the remains of the proud battlecruiser and her captain falling towards the Earth, trails of fiery light wending around the planet is it spun placidly beneath them. That was the sort of death he would have wished for himself…but not for her, never her. His eyes darkened and his jaw clenched, he strode with purpose to the weapon officer's station. Ignoring the man's questioning gaze he brushed him aside with his single mindedness. His eyes found his prey on the tactical screen, a view of Geneva from orbit, a quartet of huge laser batteries pointing skyward providing massive firepower to protect the capital. He flicked the clear cover aside and flipped the black and yellow striped flip cover, revealing the shiny metal of the Yamato cannon activation safety beneath. He flicked it almost disdainfully and stabbed his finger onto the firing protocols.

The _Achilles_ began to shudder slightly, as a magnetic field formed in front of her bridge, the glow from her engines dimming as they began to feed plasma towards the bridge. The glow of nuclear fire began to fill the umbrella like enclosure of the magnetic field in pulses, a crackling noise reverberating throughout the ship. On the bridge the light dimmed as the viewscreen was dominated by the rapidly expanding reddish glow. Reaching critical mass, the flare of nuclear energy flattened into a teardrop as it streaked away from the ship, the clouds being burned or shunted away as it passed into the atmosphere.

* * *

_Planetary Defense Battery Bravo, Geneva, Switzerland, Earth_

"Sir, telemetry shows the primary target has been destroyed…we should have visual on the remains passing into the atmosphere now." A technician spoke, looking up from his station to the slowly pacing UED officer.

The young captain nodded to the technician, his gaze drifting upward and out from the glass enclosure of the planetary gun's control tower. He smiled to himself in satisfaction as the streaking lights heralded the death of a battlecruiser and a victory in an ambitious officer's career. A much larger orange light broke through the clouds just then, his eyebrows creasing in puzzlement at the much larger fragment.

"Miller, that large piece there…will it present a danger to the city…" He waited a moment for the answer and turned around to face the man, his mouth opening to ask again, "Miller…." He stopped as he saw the look on Miller's face, the technician's face having gone ghostly white and his mouth working ineffectually. He turned back to the glass, the orange light filling the room and outlining his shadow starkly onto the floor. His eyes widened as realization turned to horror and at the pit of his soul…anguished disappointment.

The nuclear energy slammed into ground between one of the cannons and the control tower, the rising nimbus of cresting energy sweeping away the two structures and sending heat and fragments into the other three. The three remaining cannons darkened as the metal burned and bent away from the apocalyptic blast, the rising dust cloud mixing with the roaring flames to obscure what was left of the planetary guns. A sudden gust whipped the dust, smoke and ash in a huge spiral, as sirens began to blare throughout the city, a fitting herald to the hundreds of dropships breaking through the cloud cover.

* * *

_0716 Zulu Solarian Standard Time_

_Geneva, Switzerland, Earth_

The early morning sun should have shone brightly by this hour, the golden rays of dawn's light dancing on the waters of Lake Geneva and illuminating the spires of St. Peter's Cathedral. Instead the waters were dually illuminated by the fires along its shores and the flashes of explosions ripping throughout the "City of Peace". Massive columns of smoke rose from buildings hundreds of years old, while modern structures were no more than haphazard roadblocks to the advancing rebels. Fully armored marines crouched in craters ringed with asphalt alongside men and women in business attire and ragged vagabonds; virtually every facet of human existence was represented. From rich to poor, across the full spectrum of social classes, husbands and wives, brothers and sisters, total strangers. Their clothes were dirty and disheveled, torn aside to reveal wicked wounds or hastily bandaged limbs. But their faces, despite the wide variety of color and form, were all defined by a common courage, their jaws set and eyes alight with the righteousness of their cause and aflame with the depth of their anger. They meant to see the Directorate fall, if they had to tear it down with their bare hands.

* * *

_Echo Company, 331st Marine Battalion_

"Watch that left flank damnit!" He ducked as a mushroom of shrapnel and pavement exploded upward just a few meters from where he crouched, the remainder of the marine contingent spread out around him. The black and orange CMC-300 power armor he wore was markedly different from the other marines, besides the striding Greek warrior emblem on his chest that identified him and the other marines as being part of the 331st Marine Battalion attached to the _USS Achilles_, a pair of black bars on his collars and helmet identified him as the commander of this company. The wind suddenly whipped up around him as the dropships that had just delivered his company suddenly roared up and away from the scattered artillery fire. He flipped on the combat channel in his suit's HUD

"Echo Company, listen up… We have a lot of non combatants around here so watch your field of fire and identify your targets before shooting. Remember the ROE. (Rules of Engagement)"

Joseph looked around at the eager faces of the young men and women around him, seventy volunteers who were rushed through combat training simulators and thrown into the mix to fight oppression. And they were happy to be here, where the valor of men was defined with tears and bloodshed. The screams of exultation competed with the cries of the fallen between the heart shattering silences hammered in by the earth erupting artillery. Here on the streets where the fighting would be fiercest, where the metal meets the meat. Nodding to his platoon leaders, he stood up to do the tactical shuffle, a sort of hunched zigzag jog to close the distance between them and the first line of UED troops. Blood splashed onto his visor followed a micro second later by a rifle retort, his mouth worked silently as he tried to understand why his vision was painted with red. Something jostled him from the right, looking he saw a medic, her white armor now sprayed with red, her arms flailing for purchase as she fell away from him. The only sound was a high pitched keening wail that filled the space between his suddenly loud heartbeats. He crouched down again and rolled the medic over, the sharp fragments of the shattered visor haloing the brown and red crater where her face should have been. The keening wail suddenly grew louder and ended with a large shower of bricks and refuse that slammed him in the back and sent him sprawling to the ground.

"Captain Griffiss! Are you alright, sir?"

Armored hands reached under his armpits and heaved him back to his feet, the other marines closing in around him, milling somewhat in confusion.

Another marine opened his mouth to speak only to be suddenly snapped forward, the metal fragments of his armor flying off from his back in seeming slow motion as the marine screamed in agony.

"Spread out and get under some cover! There're snipers here and they're calling in coordinates for the artillery, break up by platoon and get your asses moving!" He screamed raggedly, futilely trying to wipe the blood from his visor as he hefted his rifle and started forward.

Echo Company moved out from the killing zone, dodging the occasional sharp retorts of sniper fire and the sporadic 120mm shock rounds from the Arclite Siege Tanks scattered throughout the capital area. The UED defensive forces had not yet had time to organize or consolidate their defense of the capital against ground assault; as Intelligence had uncovered that the belief held by the UED Admiralty was that the orbital defenses could not be breached by a few rebel ships. In orbit, the Rebel forces were exploiting the breach made by the battlecruisers _Achilles_ and the late _Republic_, driving a wedge through the heart of the UED defense fleet and deploying their complements of marines, armored divisions and air corps to reinforce the rising numbers of civilians taking up arms against their oppressors. On the streets, the first of the marine battalions were paving the way for additional reinforcements to land and giving the civilian combatants a rallying point to organize their efforts. Echo Company's assignment was unique, for in each marine's field pack was a carefully rolled 9' by 6' embroidered flag, a flag for the new beginning they all hoped to forge this day.

"1st Platoon, you're on point, I want to see a good spread this time… move out and keep me updated."

A non-descript marine with a single black bar on his collar nodded to Captain Griffiss and gestured sharply with his hand open, his fingers splayed as he gestured forward. About thirty marines broke away and spread out into a heavy forward tactical diamond formation, 15 marines in the lead with 5 marines taking up each cardinal point with the lieutenant in the middle. As they moved out Captain Griffiss nodded in approval and turned his attention to the remainder of his company.

"2nd Platoon, wide dispersal pattern. Cover our flanks and support 1st platoon. 3rd Platoon is with me."

He waited for the corresponding affirmatives from his other 2 platoon leaders before gesturing forward with his rifle.

"Stay frosty ladies… We're in the UED's backyard and they sure as hell know that we're here. Watch those windows and any defilade for enemy movement."

Echo Company slowly made their way to the capital building, passing under and over the twisted remains of smashed vehicles, buildings and bodies and trying to avoid major engagements as their supporting infantry and armored battalions battled with the UED defense forces. Day was quickly turning to night as the once lightly clouded sky was choked with ash and smoke from the instruments of war playing their deadly serenade. They approached a slight hill that afforded them a clear view of the capital a few miles away, the dark building starkly contrasted against the garishly orange light of the struggling noon sun. Bright flashes of tracer fire arced out in a spreading ring around the hastily made fortress of the capital building. Entire battalions of marines supported by Goliath walkers and Siege tanks milled about behind the concrete slabs pulled up from the street to serve as walls. Above them, a sudden boom announced a flight of wraiths screaming into the fray, missiles thumping from their pods in small clusters to slam into the thick walls, blasting holes in the thick concrete. They lifted up and tried to veer away even as jagged lines of molten death converged on them, the impacts raining metal and wreckage onto the street below. A salvo of missiles soared up from behind the walls and slammed into the trailing wraiths, consuming two of them in rapidly expanding balls of yellow flame and oily smoke. The last of the fighters tried to evade the horrific screen of the anti-air barrage, passing so low over Echo Company that to a man, they were blasted low by the power of its engines. The sudden retort and flattening blast of wind and burnt remnants from behind them testified to the pilot's failure. Captain Griffiss turned around and grimaced at the sight of the tall apartment building with a fire fringed blackened hole blasted into its side. He spat to the side and scanned the area as his comm. link crackled to life.

"Echo 1, Echo 1, this is 1st Platoon. We've reached the inside of the artillery curtain and have started taking 12mm and gauss fire. We're primed to execute, sir."

"Roger that Point," He raised his voice as he flipped his comm. link to open a channel on the Company net, "alright, listen up people, point has reached the objective. Whatever happens from this point on, just keep going forward and don't you dare frickin stop for anything!" At this he slammed a fresh clip into his gauss rifle and stood tall, his tall armored frame outlined by the hell being unleashed on both sides of the line.

"For Freedom!"


	3. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Blizzard Entertainment or their property, either real or intellectual. _

**STARCRAFT: EVOLUTIONS**

**CHAPTER 2**

**Hail and Farewell**

_1512 Zulu, Solarian Standard Time (SST)_

_August 14th, 2367_

_Liberty Starbase, geosynchronous orbit over Ithaca City_

_Sovereign world of Titan, Sol System_

He concentrated on his breathing as the constant and intermittent rush of air blew around his uniform and slightly tousled his graying hair. The fabric of his service dress uniform felt new, the material and fit settling uncomfortably around his medium frame. He sighed loudly as he opened his eyes and looked to the floor indicator, 17th floor, almost there. Anxiety and doubt plagued him, the pain of losing someone close to him warring within him and his profound sense of duty. Wallowing in the crushing feeling around his heart for a moment, his shoulders sagged and his hands covered his face before a single barely perceptible sob escaped him. Then the veneer of military stoicism swept him back into a human statue, standing tall and the stony angles of his face and hard piercing eyes again revealing nothing. He gave a tug on his coat to straighten it moments before the lift doors opened with a whoosh. A gentle cacophony of gentle music and murmuring voices assailed him as he stepped from the lift onto the large observation lounge. Saturn and its rings loomed huge in the wall length window with one of its moons, Rhea, swinging into view as it revolved around its parent.

"Great view isn't it, Captain" An older man murmured, stepping up to stand beside him. "I never get tired of looking at it."

Captain Aidan Smith turned to the speaker, a plain looking man wearing a dark grey robe-like suit with the chain and pendant worn by all planetary ambassadors. His nose was rather large for his face, his skin was somewhat worn by age and a life of hard labor. He extended his hand as he nodded in greeting and was surprised at the strength in the man's callused hand.

"You are the ambassador of Titan, are you not?" Aidan asked, his eyebrow rose slightly inquisitively as he released the man's hand.

The man smiled a bit as he inclined his head, "Paul Seltzer, one time mechanic and SCV operator, now august representative of the sovereign state of Titan, at your service." He proclaimed, chuckling a bit at the last. "They almost made me take one of the Senate seats," he shook his head ruefully; "this was the least important position they would let me get away with. I'll tell you a secret though…" He leaned closer to Aidan, his voice lowering in a conspiratorial tone, "I have no idea what the hell I'm doing."

"That makes two of us." Aidan whispered.

The two men stood together in silence for a time, the room continuing to fill with people as the somber music played on, each of them lost in a universe of their own thoughts. A three toned whistle grabbed their attention, as several Senators from the newly formed Solarian Republic stood up on a raised dais near the center of the assemblage. The eldest among them, a woman whose long silver hair hung down to her waist and demeanor spoke of quiet strength, nodded to an unseen operator. The deck they stood upon rumbled slightly as the glass enclosure surrounding the deck expanded to reveal another deck below them. Decked in full ceremonial regalia, an honor guard of fifty marines stood at stiff attention, their black uniforms contrasting sharply with their silver polished rifles and gleaming accoutrements. Spread out on the deck around them were the black ovoid coffins of over 320 personnel, the majority of them empty of remains as many of the crew of the _USS Republic_ could not be recovered. Each of them was draped with the flag of the new Republic and decorated with flowers and letters from loved ones and the honors granted to them by the new government. One of the coffins drew Aidan's gaze as none other could, the single red rose on the coffin laid there by a trembling Aidan earlier that day. He stared at it, as if to reconjure an image of her smiling face and willing the awful truth to fade form his memory and grant him surcease from sorrow. A single tear escaped his stony demeanor and rolled down his cheek as the senators took turns reading the names of the crew of the valiant _USS Republic_.

As echoes from the last name read from the scroll faded into the gentle hum of the _Liberty_, the commanding officer, Vice Admiral Juanita Rodriguez stood and moved with powerful strides despite her diminutive size to the center of the dais. She snapped to attention and swept the crowd with her gaze, every person in uniform also coming to attention. The marine detail below filed out, each flag having carefully been folded and collected to be given to friends and family. The deck vibrated as the stations massive 40mm cannons unleashed a salvo to honor the dead. Twice more, fiery shells lit up the space in front of the stations, the blasts arcing over Titan's North Pole and disappearing in the distance. A deep clang reverberated throughout the deck as the main airlock opened, the coffins lifting at tugging at their restraints as the atmosphere escaped from the room. Small jets ignited under each coffin, the restraints releasing them like maddened kites in a tornado. They flew off almost as one, flying in a cluster around the far end of Saturn and incandescing as they hit her outer atmosphere. Aidan had to admit that it was quite a beautiful display, a fitting way to say goodbye to good men and women…a good way to say goodbye to a friend.

* * *

_0617 Zulu, Solarian Standard Time (SST)_

_August 21st, 2367_

_Artemis Port, Vergosa_

_Fomalhaut System, 25 light years from Sol_

The sounds of heavy construction competed with the roar from the constant traffic of dropships and other vessels dropping off personnel and supplies from orbital stations. Vergosa was a wondrous world, with rich purplish skies from the exotic gasses that made up her atmosphere painting the landscape in similarly fantastic colors. To the uninitiated, the color mix was rather nauseating, some people having adverse reactions to the point of paranoia and panic. Most however had confidence in the atmospheric reprocessors that had been hard at work for four decades removing the deadly gasses from the air and replacing it with oxygen and nitrogen. Though mostly dry of liquid water, Vergosa had high concentrations of water slush trapped just beneath the surface, and as the atmosphere slowly changed to allow more of Fomalhaut's heat to remain trapped in a greenhouse effect, the permafrost began to recede and be replaced with shallow oceans. Here, nestled in a cove formed by the largest of the new oceans, Artemis Port was taking shape, the hardy colonists working diligently to reshape this world to their liking.

A cluster of men and women stood impatiently on one of the docking platforms of the main starport, their hands shielding their eyes from Fomalhaut's glare as they searched the skies. One pointed, and as the others followed the direction of their companion's arm, they began to excitedly chatter. Descending through the inky clouds above them, a gleaming blue transport craft emblazoned with the insignia of the Solarian Republic soared majestically towards the spaceport. A squadron of _Wraith_ class fighters maintained their vigil above her, circling above as she came in for a landing. Almost as soon as the landing gear touched down on the pad, the men and women rushed forward, one of them narrowly avoided being crushed by the descending offload ramp. A distinguished looking man in a dark grey suit stepped into the light from the dark interior of the cabin, a wry grin tugging at his lips as he surveyed the crowd below him. He stepped forward onto the ramp, his blonde hair and shaped beard being painted a ghastly brown in the strange light. He frowned for a moment as he gazed at the odd coloring on his hand, and was promptly deluged by the chattering crowd, his frown fading in the contagious excitement they had.

"Andrew Townes I presume?" a scholarly looking older man asked, stepping forward from among the cheering onlookers.

"Yes I am, and you are?" He answered with a smile, their hands clasping in a firm and warm handshake.

"Peter Stukov, Director of Sciences and very pleased to be receiving you this fine day. I am so glad that the Senate has so honored me and my colleagues by taking our petition so seriously."

"Believe me Director; the Senate and the President both are very interested in what technologies the UED has shunted away in this place."

Andrew gazed around the platform for a moment before smiling back at the director and motioning with his head to the other passengers disembarking from the Senatorial craft.

"Ah, here we are. Director Stukov, these are the other members of the Senate Committee on Research and Technologies. Of course you know that we are here as your guests and not to intrude on your work here."

"Of course, of course! I know you must be tired from long journey here, but if you and the committee could indulge us for but a moment, we have an exciting breakthrough we've been preparing for weeks in anticipation of your arrival."

The two groups merged and began to move off of the platform, both Townes and Stukov's heads bent toward each other as they spoke excitedly. They all loaded into a bullet tram, the tracks winding their way through and around the growing city in a dizzying display of loops and whorls. As the last Senator stepped on, pulled by a very earnest and excited young woman, the tram whooshed off straight into the heart of the city. The buildings surrounded the tram were so massive, that even with the blurring speed of the tram; it took many seconds to pass any of the growing structures. The tram suddenly slowed as it dipped into a low curve, a huge building dominated by a crystalline dome rising into view and reflecting the purplish light like a massive amethyst.

"The Goldman-Steyer Research Institute," Peter delightfully informed them, "where we have uncovered things both wondrous and hideous. We have a special display for you just inside."

The tram traveled inside the lower levels of the dome, the expansive panorama of the interior taking their breaths away. Within the crystalline shell which was not visible from the outside, the senators noted, was a blue sky streaked with wispy clouds and a bright yellow sun. To their wonder and amazement, they could feel the heat from the artificial sun shining on them and a gentle zephyr tug at their hair. Peter beamed at the senators with and spoke with a growing pride burgeoning with his every word.

"We found that a simple modification to the display systems gave us a very inspiring skylight. The heat and light wind is a simple matter of plugging in a randomizing algorithm in the environmental control system. Sometimes it can be a bit cooler. People seemed to work better and be happier when they can be reminded of where we all came from. We don't keep it like this all the time. But enough of that, this isn't what we wanted you to see," He gestured for several of the other people surrounding the senators to get moving, "this way please."

The crowd of scientists and senators followed the sprightly step of Stukov as he excitedly yammered at them, pointing out different areas of interests as they traversed the massive interior of the Goldman-Steyer Research Institute.

"Ah, here we are," Stukov proclaimed grandly, his arms extending wide to encompass a large polished neosteel door, a massive security mechanism dominating the circular portal, "beyond these doors is one of the most exciting developments I have had the privilege of overseeing. I hope you'll be pleased, I think you will."

He turned toward the door and began the archaic and esoteric process of bypassing the many security measures protecting the chamber within. He carefully turned what appeared to be a large dial with numerous pips representing numbers while pressing his thumb against an identifying plate. After a few moments, he sighed in frustration and whirled the dial, hunching down to more carefully examine the dial as he turned it. The committee members looked at each other in barely hidden amusement while the other scientists flushed in embarrassment as Stukov cursed and whirled the dial again, forcefully. Finally, he stepped back with a self-satisfied huff, the internal mechanism of the door clunking as the locks disengaged. With a metallic rumble, the door rolled to the left, the interior lights of the chamber lighting up the room and exposing the deceptively small lab.

"After you Mr. Townes, mind your step there." Peter proclaimed, bowing and sweeping his arm gracefully as he stepped inside and to the side to admit the rest of the party.

The roughly circular chamber was 20 meters in diameter with a 10 meter ceiling, its walls and ceiling made from machined neosteel with support struts every 5 meters along its circumference. The outer ring of the room was separated by a thick railing, many of which had small computer consoles inset every few meters. The center of the room was the true center of attention. A circular pedestal several meters in diameter dominated the room and was surrounded by a visible field of force, the surface of the table seemingly empty.

"If you could just squeeze around there," Peter Stukov gestured around the room, "we'll try and make room for everyone, make sure you can see the center console there.

As the scientists and senators filled the area, Stukov moved to a larger console opposite the main door and began to work; occasionally looking over his shoulder to see how they were fitting into the room. Satisfied that everyone was in a good position to view the demonstration, he nodded to a technician standing by the door, who turned and closed the circular portal and dimmed the lights.

Stukov took a deep breath and after a final look around at the attentive faces of his audience, paying special note to Alexander Townes' expression, he initiated the device. The force field around the pedestal shimmered almost imperceptibly as the power in the room noticeably dropped, the already dim lights dimming further. Light green rays slowly began to extend from the surface of the pedestal and arrange themselves into a complex geometric shape, the surfaces being filled in as each side was completed. Soon, a representation of a small ground car sat on the pedestal, the type of utility vehicle that was quite common in colonial areas for its ruggedness and ease of use. As they continued to watch, the lighted surfaced began to ripple and flicker as the green light was replaced by a solid seeming metal that flowed in tiny rivulets across the model.

"Director, I'm not sure what it is that I'm looking at." Alexander whispered, his eyes never leaving the display.

"You'll see Mr. Townes, it's nearly done."

The last of the green light was overcome by the flowing metal and as the light faded, it revealed a miniature model of the utility vehicle in perfect detail. The force screen protecting the pedestal vanished with a shimmer, releasing the collective breaths of the onlookers in a profound sigh. They were all perplexed at what they had just seen, turning to each other quizzically as Peter Stukov literally bounded to the center display and proudly held up his model.

"Do you know what this is!" Stukov cried excitedly.

"Um, not really, no… I am anxious to hear your explanation though." Alexander replied.

"I know that this is just a model and in itself not really impressive and certainly not worth having you make the long journey here. The issue of interest here is not in the model but rather how the model came to be here. You see, this model only existed as a pattern in the computer as of a few moments ago. Drawing from tanks of raw material which are hidden behind some panels surrounding this room, the computer used small force fields and light projectors to create a three dimensional model of the ground car, laying the foundation for our truly magnificent discovery." Peter intoned, adopting a lecturer's stance as he excitedly explained.

"The suspense is killing us Director!" Alex laughed, drawing chuckles from both the other scientists and senators.

"This model was built by nanites;" He nodded sagely as he waited for the full impact of that term to sink into their minds, "that's right, microscopic machines programmed at the moment of their creation for a specific task, in this case, to build us this model. We've explored numerous other applications for this science and have successfully injected a series of nanites into living cells. The results were quite impressive, we preprogrammed the nanites to reconstruct the living tissue only on certain very narrow perimeters; this will allow a cell to naturally age and divide without the nanites interfering. But in the case of trauma, wherein the cell is exposed to lethal radiation, force or other non-natural means, the nanites successfully utilized a minimum amount of adenosine tri-phosphate, which as some of you may or may not know is what our cells produce for energy, to power themselves and rebuild the cell and restored it to pre-trauma condition. To test this application on a wider scale, we grew some small tissue samples in our lab; partial lungs, kidney, skeletal and muscle tissue for example. The nanites were able to reconstruct the original tissue even after almost complete destruction of the tissue itself. Now, I have to say this much, in the case of complete destruction, say in the case of a nuclear blast or similar phenomena or maybe just an intense fire, the nanites themselves were destroyed and obviously were unable to affect this level of repair. Secondly, you see the obvious benefit here in my hand. Nanites are not limited to the size of the object that is desired, we would simply use more of them. For example, we used approximately 3.2 million nanites for this model. Larger objects would take a correspondingly larger number of nanites to produce the same effect in a similar timeframe. Unfortunately at a certain point we reach the absolute limit of reliable control once we achieve about 17 trillion nanites, which is sufficient to construct say… a modest home or transport spacecraft in about 18 hours. That time would of course be shortened if we limit the nanites to only certain portions of the construction process. I estimate that the current modernization program the Republic Stellar Navy is undergoing would greatly benefit from this technology, cutting the times of their refits and new construction by more than 80."

One of the senators then cleared his throat and asked, "That is absolutely unbelievable Director! How did this come about? Surely you and your team didn't completely achieve this research in the few months you've been here!"

"Of course not", Peter replied, "the foundation of this technology was developed at the Lake of Tranquility research labs on Luna by anonymous private researchers before their work was seized and sealed by the UED. I suppose that the UED felt that this potentially destabilizing technology could not be allowed into any hands and instead of exploiting it and risk every power in the Orion arm to obtain it, secreted it away here until our team came upon it. The vital notes led us in the right direction and allowed us to complete the work the researcher on Luna finished."

"You said, anonymous private researchers Director, is there no mention of them in the notes you found?"

"Well, Senator Townes, in keeping with UED doctrine of the time, I believe that the scientists were met with unfortunate accidents to keep them from continuing their work. As a scientist working on the Yamato project years ago, I am well aware of some of the methods employed by them to keep things the way they wanted it."

Peter Stukov sighed and dropped his head into his hands for a moment before continuing, his voice muffled as he continued to speak.

"It was a long time ago and the sins of the past are being swept away by the promise of a better today. Though the UED only fell a short time ago, life is already so much better than it was before. My colleagues and I's work is our part to ensure our future. Albert Einstein once wrote that he believed our technology exceeded our humanity. Now, hundreds of years later we find ourselves finally at the point where technology has to catch up. It really is an exciting time to be alive."

As he finished his demeanor brightened, his hands moving away from his head and the solemn frown replaced by a profound grin.

"Well, I think I can honestly say that the rest of the committee and I, "Townes began sweeping his gaze to include the already nodding other senators, "will be pleased to remain here and complete our investigation of your work here. Though we've haven't yet begun, this work is absolutely amazing and it will reflect in our report to the Senate. I wouldn't be surprised if the funds and material support you've asked for shows up at Artemis Port with the Senate's blessings and a big red ribbon wrapped around it."

* * *

_0932 Zulu, Solarian Standard Time (SST)_

_September 1st, 2367_

_Dropship Hermes on route to Earth_

_Jupiter Orbit, Sol System_

"Captain Smith? Just thought you'd like to know that we are entering inner Jupiter orbit, estimate Earth in about 6 hours sir."

"Thank you Lieutenant." Aidan replied dismissively, his mind far away.

The gentle rumble of the modified dropship relaxed him as he reclined on the passenger seat of the passenger section of the refitted passenger dropship. The funeral services seemed to have drained him of any concern, even the news of his beloved _Achilles'_ impending decommissioning ceremony at Earth failing to draw more than a raised eyebrow, his usual response to disturbing news as of late. "_I've been attending far too many funerals lately_," he thought to himself, _"one too many at least." _The sight of his dearest friend falling in her burning ship towards Earth echoed itself in his eyes whenever he lost focus, which was often. His heart ached at the dreams unrealized, the words unspoken, everything he had felt for her over the years to remain unexpressed and chained within his heart now forever. He looked out of the view port to see Callisto rising from behind the orange mass of Jupiter, its dark side failing to show the city lights with the reflected glare from its parent.

"Sir", the pilot interrupted his reverie again, no doubt to regale him with useless facts of Jupiter or Callisto or any number of inane jabbering small talk the young man had tried to impress him with during the journey, "I'm sorry to bother you again sir but we're experiencing some technical difficulty. Our communications and transponder array just went offline again; I'm going to have to make port with Daedalus station and get it looked at before we can continue. Sorry about the delay."

"It's alright Lieutenant, these old dropships never were the most reliable."

"Roger that sir." Aidan could almost hear the grin in the pilot's voice.

* * *

_0945 Zulu Solarian Standard Time (SST)_

_September 1st, 2367_

_Daedalus Testing Range, Callisto orbit_

_Sol System_

Gleaming blue and silver daggers arced through the veil of starlit night over the calm cityscapes of Callisto, the pale blue streamers of their powerful engines cutting a swath through the darkness. The new _Kestrel_ class space superiority fighters flew in an inverted "V" formation, the twelve fighters of the 435th Flight Test Squadron engaging in tactical maneuvers in their final test runs while monitored by _Daedalus_, the large space station in Callisto orbit.

"Commander Yong, this is Daedalus monitor 3, we have all the data we need, you are clear to proceed to phase 2."

Aboard the station, a line of monitors above the armored glass windows showed the relative positions of Callisto, the _Kestrel_ squadron and the armed drones waiting for them near Callisto's pole.

"Hey, keep an eye open, I'm going to grab a cup of joe."

A woman of middle years declared to the others, three other women and two men as she rose from her console and headed for the coffee machine.

"Sure thing, grab me one too would ya?" An older man asked, his eyes not leaving the display. He heard her mumbled reply as a distant echo as his focus shifted fully onto the display before him. His monitor was collecting tactical data on the fighters and would be a valuable tool in tweaking the fighter's systems after their performance was measured up against the target drones. A soft clink to his left and the aroma of dark coffee barely intruded on his concentration as he mumbled thanks. He gave a loud yelp as his attention was abruptly ripped away from his console and sent glaring to his left where one of his colleagues stood pointing emphatically out the window.

"What the hell are you doing?" He demanded crossly.

"Shut up and look! What the hell is that?"

He glared for a second before allowing his gaze to follow the woman's finger. He squinted his eyes as his mind tried to identify the blip swiftly approaching the testing range between the drones and the fighters, his ire vanishing with the mystery.

"Why, that's a dropship…A DROPSHIP! What the! Get on the comm., their in the way!" He shouted, jumping up from his seat and dumping piping hot coffee all over the console and his lap. He ignored the flash of pain as he stumbled over to the communications station, jostling the operator and yelling at the window.

"Unidentified spacecraft! You are entering a live test range, move yourself to Z-20 degrees and await further instruction," the woman paused, waiting for a response. Getting nothing but static, she tried again, "Unidentified spacecraft! I repeat! You are entering a live fire test range! Pull off immediately! They're not responding!" She wailed.

"Call those fighters off! Have them disengage immediately!"

"Oh god, it's too late…" she moaned, her hands covering her mouth in horror as the fighters opened up on the dropship with their pulse laser cannons.

* * *

_1350 Zulu, Solarian Standard Time (SST) _

_September 3rd, 2367_

_City of San Angeles, Callisto_

_Sol System_

Sibilant whispers caress away the pain and grief and staving away for a moment the despair that claws in his depths. The echoes that wash over him tingles the nerves in his skin like a lover's breath on his neck, the light touch raising the flesh of his skin and sending arcs of electric sensation tickling across the synapses of his body. His mind flashed, a woman's face darkened by shadow and wreathed in blades smiles at him, a gentle murmur of promise and love weakening guilt's hold over him. The touch is lost, the echoes fading into the cold walls of the cell that contain him and support him. Without prelude the shocking chill of bare metal assails his skin through the threadbare rags of his uniform, the shimmering cascade of force a window to twin expressions of contempt. Two armored marines, their faces set in stone fix him with a hard glare, reclining behind a desk on the other side of the field, eyes locking onto his.

"Looks like he's back with us." One guard remarked to the other, his voice carefully neutral.

"Looks that way," the other answers flatly, "How are you feeling Commander?"

Lieutenant Commander Kim Yong stares back at them for a moment, comprehension not finding a hold in his consciousness. He blinks away the last vestiges of his nightmare and finds himself in another nightmare, a very real nightmare of guilt and the anguish of a terrible mistake whose cost will come too dear for him to take.

"Well, "the guard continues, glancing at the chronometer mounted on the wall above Yong's cell, "it's nearly time for you to meet the inquiry board. We're going to let you out now so you can get ready, I don't want to have to sedate you again Commander, I know how terrible you must feel, just remember that it was an accident. You know these inquiry boards are standard procedure and having that much guilt over something you had no control over is ridiculous. Now, are you going to play nice and make our job easier? The last thing we need is for you to make an ass of yourself again."

Commander Yong nodded his head; the shame of his earlier behavior coloring his cheeks and ears in shades of crimson so deep it seemed to burn him. After the accident at _Daedalus _three days ago, he had tried to leave the station through an airlock, the lack of anything between him and open space not creating the slightest dent in his determination to get out. It took four security personnel to drag him out of the airlock, kicking and screaming, the overwhelming desire to end the soul crushing guilt lending strength to his punches and kicks. A light buzz heralded the lowering of the force field that kept him imprisoned, a wary looking guard holding the commander's service dress uniform in his left arm like a suspicious maitre' de. Kim sighed to himself as he heaved up to his feet with a grunt; the ache in his joints a poignant testimony to his sojourn in custody. He nodded slightly in a suitability chastened demeanor to the uniformed security officer as he took his uniform from him, the fresh smell of the cloth bringing him some measure of dignity back. A few minutes later, after he had dressed and processed out of the guard's jurisdiction, he strode with purpose towards the tram station to meet with the inquiry board, determined to meet his destiny with head held high.

* * *

_0647 Zulu, Solarian Standard Time (SST)_

_September 4th, 2367_

_Lackland Aerospace Training Base, Texas, Earth_

_Sol System_

A sudden impact on his legs left him teetering for a moment, a surprised cry escaping his lips as his razor jerked, slicing a tiny strap of skin from his cheek. He looked down at the tangled monster wrapped around his legs and tried to extricate himself from the little tornado. A brown mop of hair stood out on his smiling boy's face as the little tornado stood up and clapped happily at his father. The man grinned back at his son before mocking a terrifying face, the boy squealing happily as he sprinted straight into the wall, bounced off and careened around the doorway from the bathroom, his yell diminishing as he plummeted as fast as his 2 year old legs could carry him. The man frowned into the mirror as he examined his face, droplets of blood contrasting sharply with the bits of shaving cream still on his jaw. He wiped away the blood and slapped a bandage on it, rinsing his face of the lather and toweling away the mess.

"Robbie! You come back here with that, you…." Another childish squeal punctuated the toddler's response to his mother, the sound of his fat little legs pumping furiously preceding him back to the bathroom, where he once again collided with his father. Clutched in his little hands was a pair of his mother's lingerie, the mischievous glimmer in his eyes matched only by his father's at seeing what his son had taken.

"Now son, running off with your mom…err…stuff is not how we behave. Now let me have that and go tell mom that you're sorry."

What followed was one of many ridiculous moments of parenthood, a grown man trying to take something from a mere child, the little boy successfully dodging and evading his dad by erratically waving the dainty underwear every which way. Finally, after an exasperated sigh that only a parent understands and other adults only "think" they understand, he snatches up his squirming son and holds him in a tight hug, finally getting a hold of the prize of the battle. Wailing at the unfairness of the universe, the toddler squirms all the harder, trying to wriggle his way out of his dad's arms. Kissing the boy while he has the chance, he finally lets him down, only to have Robbie berate him with an emphatic, "No No!" his chubby little hands accentuating the point with a dramatic wave.

"Robbie Wilkins!"

"It's alright Hun, I got it from him!" he calls back, staring after Robbie's back, the boy's attention already shifted elsewhere.

"No, you're going to be late for work!"

"No, I'm not…Oh shit!" he cries, looking at his watch and realizing the time. He leapt over the bed and grabbed his BDU (battle dress uniform) shirt and vaulted back over it to dash out the bedroom door, tugging on the shirt while unsuccessfully scanning the dining room for his key card.

"Louise! Have you seen my keys?"

He casts about, searching with his eyes while simultaneously patting down his pockets, looking up to see his wife of seven years holding the object of his search with something approaching smugness. He smiles at her and snatches the keys, pecking her on the cheek before flying out the front door.

"Robbie, be good for mom! I'll see you later sweetheart!" He calls, climbing into his sky blue Buick, it's somewhat rounded box design an attempt by auto manufacturers to stir nostalgia in the early days. According to the salesperson he bought it from, it was a modern replica of the 1952 Buick Road master series, excluding only the white walled wheels (wheels having little place on a hover car).

The hover car lifted off the pad with a soft whoosh, the sounds of an old style internal combustion engine reverberating from under the hood to give the illusion of power. He swung it about, the ultra clean Buick yawing gracefully in the air before rocketing up and into the lanes of a mass of hover cars speeding thousands of people throughout the early morning skies of Texas.

"Engage auto-drive, work." He intoned as his hands left the controls and crossed behind his head, his seat leaning back in anticipation of his need for comfort. He yawned widely as he searched the satellite stations for his morning news channel, the old fashioned dials of the controls a further attempt to remind owners of the glory days of the antique gas guzzlers. Louise loved the car even more than he did, the memory of her wide eyed stare when he drove it home for the first time bringing a smile and another memory of a time not so long ago.

"Where are we anyway?" A younger Louise asked, the new car smell engulfing her as she sat next to him.

"We're parked on a bluff overlooking the metro," he replied without looking, "I did some research and found out that young people used to come up here a hundred years ago and looked out at the lights of the city."

"I admit that it's a nice view, but I have a hard time believing that people came out here just for the view." She looked at him, eyebrow raised and head cocked in a disbelieving look.

"Well…that's not ALL they did." He smiled amorously and leaned into her, his lips coming down onto hers with a sudden passion.

"Oh my…" She murmured as her lips and body responded in kind, "I think I might like this place."

Nine months later, little Robbie made his debut at Wilford Hall hospital on Lackland, the screaming bloody bundle of new life opening new channels of love in his parents, who could only coo at him as he yelled at the top of his lungs, as if very unhappy about being out in the world. Sean chuckled at himself at the memories that followed, the fumbling absurdity associated with new parents trying not to break their delicate infant as they went about changing diapers or feeding. A warning bleep shook him from his reverie, the sight of one of the security gates of Lackland coming up sharply in his windshield. He disengaged the auto and gripped the hand controls with his left hand as he placed his campaign hat squarely onto his head with his right, a sigh escaping his lips at the thought of facing another new crop of fresh recruits.

* * *

_1647 Zulu, Solarian Standard Time_

_September 4th, 2367_

_Holy City of Lhasa, Tibet, Earth_

_Sol System_

The wind whistled forlornly as it whipped loose snow about the mountain ridge, expressing its chagrin that its domain was being invaded by a small huddle of boys and girls sitting quietly as if in meditation. They sat in a rough semi-circle, their bodies poised even as they sat in a lotus position, their hands resting comfortably in their laps as their eyes tracked unerringly to the middle aged man who sat at the focus of their half circle. Each of them wore nothing but threadbare robes that served mainly to whip wildly in the wind and did nothing to protect them from the bitter cold. Even their feet were bare as they listened to the grey robed man's words. Though the man whispered, his words carried with crystal clarity to each of them, defeating the wind and its incessant howling. The chill failed to affect any of them, not even their skin reacting to the icy touch of the thin mountain air.

"All there is, and all there is not, all is bound and yet unbound in the eternal mystery of the one consciousness. All that we feel, think, desire, even remember, are merely expressions of this consciousness. The world at our feet and the endless expanse of the stars above are just manifestations of the single consciousness, a rippling fabric that is easily manipulated and understood once you learn to touch the source and become one with the true self. Let your mind disconnect from the prison of the material, of what we have for so long determined as 'reality'. Stretch out with your feelings and your thoughts to encompass the group. Allow yourself to feel what they feel, think what they think. Let the beat of their hearts be the beat of your heart, let the essence of what we are surround you and infuse you. By touching the one, by seeing the current flow of the great ocean of existence and becoming one with the single consciousness you will begin to understand. Space and time are illusions. From stars were we born and to stars are we consigned to return. We are all one."

The older man nodded in appreciation of his students, a slight tinge of pride coloring his perception of the one consciousness and passing to the others of the group. He cleared his thoughts and let the mountain seep in, the grand majesty of the ancient peak filling him with its presence. He passed the presence on to his students, the feel of the mountain leaving them gasping with astonishment as they 'felt' the mountain beneath them as if it were a living thing, as if they _were_ the mountain.

"Not as if," The teacher calmly expressed, his thoughts touching each of them, "you are the mountain."

He felt it coming before it came into view, the echoes of force along the fabric of existence tickling his senses and focusing his attention to a distant arrival. He let go of his physical eyes and opened himself more fully to the One, the space between him and the approaching ship dissolving away as if it did not exist. It was a military craft, one of the newer _Courier_ class Transports cleaving through the skies with powerful yet quiet engines. It veered starboard, its course directing it unerringly toward the mountain nestled temple below them.

"That is all for today, return to the temple and resume your duties." He stood up and brushed the snow from his robes, continuing to gaze in the direction of the approaching ship.

"At last, humanity is ready, and we are ready to serve humanity" He thought to himself, as his enhanced vision watched the shuttle land amidst several other monks who stood by to greet their guest, "The Order of the Ka Kun Skyed Byed stands ready."

(Ka translates to 'one' in Tibetan, found in the Dharma translation. Kun Skyed Byed means Consciousness or Imagination, specifically that which is all producing or all pervasive)


End file.
